And when the hour of twilight musings came And thy fair mistress in the leafy bower, Or by the curtained casement, lay entranced In all the dreamy luxury of thought, When the soft odors of the sleeping flowers Stole forth on dewy wing to visit her, And bathe her brow in sweetness—when she looked To the far, quiet stars, that glanced abroad In silent, glorious beauty—thou hast strayed Carelessly through the long fair locks that lay Like a sun-kindled cloud across her neck: Lifting each half unconscious tress in pride, Fondly and lingeringly entwining it, As loth to quit thy lovely resting place. And thou art—aye, sweet shell—more favored far To owe thy polish to her gentle touch, Than the most honored worshipper who kneels Before her shrine: than he who holds thee now Betwixt a reverential thumb and finger, Absorbed in admiration of thy worth. _New York, 1836._ INFLUENCE OF NAMES. “What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.”—_Shakspeare._ Shakspeare was mistaken. There is a great deal—there is almost every thing in names. Their influence is felt at all times, and under all circumstances. In war and peace—in morals, literature and religion—in the world of fashion—and above all, in politics, the despotism of names is all powerful, universal and irresistible. Nay, Shakspeare himself is authority against Shakspeare. Does he not make the gentle Juliet say to her lover, “'Tis but thy _name_ that is my enemy”—that fatal name which separated two devoted hearts—which planted thick sorrows in their path, and finally shrouded them in one common sepulchre! Does he not put into the mouth of one of Antony's captains, “I'll humbly signify what in his _name_, that _magical word of war_, we have effected.” And again, speaking of the great Pompey, “his _name_ strikes more than could his war resisted.” Names indeed govern the world; and it is not among the least ingenious of all human contrivances that the world should be so governed. I do not wish to speak of the moral guilt and future accountability of those who combine to delude the ignorant—who chain mens' minds to some false idol, or enlist them in some scheme of abomination, whose iniquities are artfully veiled under the names of virtue, patriotism, and the like. If the denunciations of the eloquent Hebrew prophet against those who call evil good, and good evil—who put darkness for light, and light for darkness—who call bitter sweet, and sweet bitter—are not sufficient to alarm such delinquents, it would avail nothing for uninspired tongues and pens to attempt their conviction and reform.